


I Wish You the Best (The Spectre You Are)

by Forestfire34720



Series: Spectres [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Alfred Pennyworth-centric, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bittersweet Ending, Families of Choice, Gen, Ghost Dick Grayson, Ghosts, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Guardian Angels, Limbo, POV Alfred Pennyworth, Spirits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:47:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24925645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forestfire34720/pseuds/Forestfire34720
Summary: “Dick is smiling still; tears still shine at the corners of his eyes, but looking at him standing there, all Alfred can think is how so very lucky they all were to have him, in life and in death. Alfred is immeasurably, unspeakably proud of the strong, watchful guardian angel he has become.”In which death is not the end and one man wants his family to find peace.Or: Guardian Angel: Batbutler Edition.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth
Series: Spectres [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697866
Comments: 5
Kudos: 97





	I Wish You the Best (The Spectre You Are)

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Major character death (occurs off-screen). _Major_ spoilers for Batman, vol 3, #83 (at the halfway mark), and some for the movie Under the Red Hood.
> 
> Title is from the song Spectres, by Aviators.

The oven beeps. Alfred glances over at it, confirms it has finished pre-heating, then puts on an oven mitt. He slides the pan of lasagna in and starts the timer. If he's timed everything correctly — and it's very rare that he doesn't — then the lasagna should be finished cooking and cooling down just in time for dinner.

_"Hi, Alfie."_

Alfred pauses, takes a moment to compose himself, then slowly tugs the oven mitt off and turns around.

"It is good to see you again, Master Dick," he says calmly, as if this is normal, as if he talks to the ghost of his deceased boy every day.

Dick laughs. _"You too."_ He moves closer and peers into the oven. _"Is that lasagna?"_

Alfred nods. "Yes. Miss Stephanie requested it for tonight."

 _"Steph's a genius and a complete and utter madwoman,"_ Dick says with a proud grin, even though it has nothing to do with lasagna. _"She fits in perfectly with this family. Even if Bruce never officially adopted her, I'm really glad everyone's accepted her as family."_

"From no small amount of influence from you, I'm sure."

 _"Nothing gets by you, huh? Of course not, what am I saying?"_ Dick shakes his head fondly. _"Steph's had a tough life, has had to give up so much. Least I could do is help her get something back for once."_

Alfred thinks of the child she'll never know now, of the false, brittle smile she put on, of the broken, grieving look in her eyes. Bruce had done what he could to alleviate the heartbreak, but he can only do so much. It's a comfort to know that Stephanie had had someone else as well.

 _"Anyway,"_ Dick says, hopping up onto the counter. Alfred raises a brow at this, but since he hasn't seen him in so long and Dick is intangible anyway, he allows it to slide just this once. _"Bruce filled you in, then, about everything? My ghostliness and ability to do stuff and help out in the living world — wait, wouldn't this make me a poltergeist, if I can physically change stuff? Huh."_

"Master Bruce did indeed explain the situation. He said that you were still here, watching over us." Alfred smiles. "It is one thing to hear him say that. It is quite another to see it with my own two eyes."

 _"I took naps on chandeliers and punched bad guys in the face every night and dealt with racist rich people at galas,"_ Dick chuckles. _"Death was a walk in the park compared to all that. It definitely wasn't about to stop me from keeping this family together. It's a relief, being able to help. Everyone has so many close calls, and I don't want to think about what all might've happened if I hadn't been there."_

"I'm forever grateful that you were there when they needed you." Alfred steps closer. "I just wish I had been there for you when you needed someone, all those years ago."

 _"Hey, it's not your fault,"_ Dick refutes. _"It's the Joker's, for blowing me up. And Ra's al Ghul's, too. I mean, he has a whole league of literal assassins at his command; he didn't have to hire Joker on 'distraction duty' — "_ he makes finger-quotes around the words _" — while he was off blowing up European banks or whatever — I don't care if he claims he was destabilizing the European economy, he was still totally blowing up all the banks. Anyway, Joker was a... painful decision for me. At least assassins would have been professional about it."_

"Master Dick," Alfred says, a half-reprimand.

_"Sorry, Alfie. I'm just not too happy about that particular idea of Ra's, for obvious reasons. I didn't come here to talk about my grievances and death though. I wanted to talk to you, catch up and all. You started a new book recently. The Green Glass Sea, right? What's it about?"_

Alfred has to hide a wince at the mention of Dick's death, but he smiles when Dick asks about his current book. Dick was never that into reading, not like Jason is, but he had still liked to pick up a book every once in a while. "That was the previous book. I am currently reading _Copper Sun_."

 _"Right, right."_ Dick snaps his fingers soundlessly. _"Is it any good?"_

Despite his question, it is quite clear to him that Dick is not actually interested in the book itself. He just wants to talk with Alfred, whatever the subject. So Alfred simply smiles serenely and starts describing the story.

"What of you, Master Dick?" Alfred asks when he has finished. "What have you been occupying your time with? Master Bruce explained how you have helped everyone, and Master Tim relayed to me the events of the fire some time ago."

_"Yeah. If I can save them from joining me in death, then I can rest easy. So I've been spending my time saving lives. Helping comfort them when there's no one else. Doing my best to get everyone to not turn on each other and accepting their siblings as family. They don't like to show it, but I can tell how much they love each other. It makes me happy, knowing that."_

"And are you comfortable, Master Dick? Are you ever in pain?"

Dick shakes his head. _"No, actually. As a matter of fact, I don't feel much of anything, physically, even when I'm interacting with things. Sometimes I get these sort of echoes from my injuries and all, but it doesn't really hurt. It's more like they're just memories of being hurt, without actually feeling the pain."_

"That is good to hear."

Dick nods. _"Sometimes I leave Gotham to check up on my old friends. It's a bit harder to keep an eye on them, since they tend to be scattered across the world and Garth literally lives underwater, but I do my best. And I —"_

Dick's image flickers.

"Master Dick?" Alfred asks.

 _"Aw man,"_ Dick sighs, and his voice gains an almost wispy quality at the edges. _"Almost out of time. I don't have the energy to hold this form much longer. I'm glad we got to talk, though. It'd been way too long."_

"I missed you, Master Dick. Thank you," Alfred says again, "for protecting everybody in this house."

_"They're my brothers, my sisters, my family. I love them more than I can possibly say. I can't be the brother I might've been to them, but I'm always going to do whatever I can for them."_

Myths claim that ghosts exist because the deceased still have a reason to linger, a goal to pursue, a purpose to fulfill. It's easy for Alfred to see what Dick's is.

"Perhaps you won't be the exact same brother you might have been," Alfred says, "but you will still be their brother, and that is all that they could ask of you. They are glad you are here, Master Dick, and so am I."

 _"Me too, Alfie. Me too."_ Dick smiles and slides off the counter. _"I'll come by to talk again soon. You won't always see me in the meantime, but I'll be around."_ He winks. _"Just gotta keep an eye out."_

Alfred nods. "I will be certain to do so."

 _"Enjoy the food extra for me?"_ Dick asks.

"Of course, Master Dick."

_"You're the best, Alfie. Never forget it."_

Dick grins and waves his farewell jauntily. His form wavers and dissipates like smoke, and then by all appearances Alfred is alone in the kitchen. But Dick's presence still suffuses the room, a warm and cheerful aura left in his wake. It fills Alfred with the certainty that he did not just imagine that conversations, that Dick is indeed still watching over them all. Alfred smiles to himself and turns his attention back to his cooking.

And if his eyes are a little wet, well, no one has to know.

* * *

Alfred opens his eyes with the full awareness that he is dead.

It comes back to him almost immediately, the feeling of Bane's fingers around his neck, the phantom snap echoing in his ears. He is on the ground now, relatively speaking, in a vast plain of off-white depths. There are variations on the shading everywhere he looks, a strange mixture of orderly and haphazard.

Someone comes to a stop right in front of him, and Alfred lifts his head.

Dick is standing above him, a deep anguish written across his face. Dick offers him his hand, and Alfred takes it. The other's grip is firm, and Alfred can feel his rough calluses. He is helped to his feet and immediately pulled into a tight hug.

"My dear boy," Alfred murmurs and embraces him back. Dick feels solid and warm and real now, nothing like the mostly insubstantial specter he'd talked with previously. "This is not how I wished to reunite, but it is good to see you again."

"I'm sorry. I couldn't save you," Dick cries, distressed. His breath hitches, and then his arms wrap around Alfred tighter. "I tried, I really tried, but I couldn't stop Bane. I couldn't get Thomas to understand. I couldn't — "

"It is quite alright, Master Dick," Alfred soothes.

Truly, Alfred has already accepted and made peace with his death. Certainly he did not _desire_ to die. But if his death means he is a cause of Bruce's salvation and not an instrument of his downfall, Alfred finds he has few objections. He may have started as the Wayne's butler, but Bruce has long since become his surrogate son, and there is little he would not do for his son.

There are no good deaths. But sometimes there can be good reasons for death.

"It is not your fault," continues Alfred. "None can hold back death forever. And if it helps Master Bruce bring peace to the city, I do not believe I can bring myself to regret it."

"No one can live forever," Dick says quietly, something wet glimmering on his face. "I know that better than most. But I still wish there had been another way."

"Perhaps," Alfred agrees, "but what is done is done. We cannot change the past, only adapt to it. There is always going to be second-guessing, thinking of an alternative far too late. The only thing left is to accept what has transpired and move on as best we can."

Dick laughs wetly. "You're just as wise as I remember you being, Alfie. Perhaps even wiser."

Alfred smiles gently. "Indeed. And you are just as kind, Master Dick."

Dick finally pulls away — although he keeps his hands on Alfred's shoulders — and takes a few moments to compose himself. Then he wipes at his eyes and straightens. "Well, Alfie, welcome to Limbo. Or whatever that place between life and death is called. I just named it Limbo because I didn't know what else to call it."

"Do any other people reside here?" Alfred asks. He couldn't deny that he was curious about this, and if there was one thing certainly he certainly had plenty of now, it was time.

"New arrivals all the time." Dick shrugs. "People who just died, mostly. But they don't stay long. They either move on to the afterlife or get drawn back to the living world as ghosts and whatnot. Those are all the dead our magic users talk with and stuff, like Boston Brand. It's weird; they're dead, but I'm pretty sure they're still connected to the living world. And I'm... not, for whatever reason. I think it's why it takes so much effort for me to do anything in the living world."

"To be honest, though, I don't understand the most of the nuances of it," Dick continues. "That's just what I've managed to grasp so far. Anyway, what I was saying is, people don't stay long. They either move on or go back. I think a couple times a ghost found peace and popped up here for a few minutes, but then they moved on and that was that."

"You did not do any of that, though," Alfred notes mildly, and Dick's expressions turns contemplative.

"No," he murmurs at last, staring into the distance. "When I died, Alfie, I was at peace with my past. At peace with all I'd accomplished. But I knew more was waiting, and I wanted to know my family's future. So here I am."

Alfred moves closer, clasping his boy's hands with his own. He waits until Dick turns to look him straight in the eye, until he knows he has Dick's full and completely attention.

"I'm so very proud of you," Alfred tells him. His voice is quiet but no less warm for it. "I'm proud of everything you've done. I'm proud of how you found your way back to the family even after what happened to you. And I know I'll be proud of whatever you choose to do from now. I'm proud of _you_ , Master Dick, and I sincerely hope you won't forget that."

A smile fills his face. "Never."

Dick moves in for another hug, and Alfred returns it without hesitation. He holds his boy close and savors every moment.

After several long moments, they finally pull away from each other. Dick is smiling still; tears still shine at the corners of his eyes, but looking at him standing there, all Alfred can think is how so very lucky they all were to have him, in life and in death. Alfred is immeasurably, unspeakably proud of the strong, watchful guardian angel he has become.

Dick squeezes Alfred's hands softly once, then releases him and steps away.

"Go, Alfie," he urges, looking calm and truly at peace. "Your afterlife is waiting for you. You've long since earned it."

"And you, Master Dick?"

Alfred can feel it; just as he can move on, so can his grandson, if he so chooses. He's been here for so many years already, and he deserves his eternity.

But Dick shakes his head, and there's sorrow in that familiar movement but also a deep, accepting peace. His guise drops, just for an instant, and Alfred's heart clenches at the painful reminder of his grandson's untimely, violent death. Then his form solidifies once more, and Dick smiles warmly. Alfred can see the same powerful determination, protectiveness, and love that had defined his life in that smile. And he understands.

Dick can't rest, _won't_ rest, until his family can as well.

"Someday, Alfie," Dick replies calmly. "Someday. But not today."

**Author's Note:**

> In case clarification is needed (warning: spoilers for Under the Red Hood ahead, if there’s anyone who’s reading this and somehow hasn’t seen it): Dick's death is an adapted version of Jason's from the movie Under the Red Hood. In it, Ra's al Ghul was attempting to destablize the European economy by blowing up a bunch of banks, and hires Joker to distract Batman, which he does by kidnapping and eventually killing Jason (Dick, here). In the movie, Ra's resurrects Jason due to feeling responsible for his death. My reasoning is that while Jason was still a teenager and acting as Robin, here Dick was Nightwing, twenty years old, and an adult operating on his own. Ra's regretted that his actions led to Dick's death but felt no obligation to resurrect him.
> 
> I thought all that stuff about Limbo up on the spot, so if there are any inconsistencies... well, that's probably why.
> 
>  _The Green Glass Sea_ and _Copper Sun_ are both real books, and I recommend you go take a look if you haven’t read them before.
> 
> Thoughts? Questions? Suggestions?


End file.
